


Closer to the Spark

by keirajo



Series: The Love of Romance [7]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Desire, Longing, M/M, Passion, Romance, Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17963564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: A large step is taken in Megatron and Rodimus' relationship and things..............come up between them as they talk.





	Closer to the Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Continued directly from where "Waiting for Redemption" left off. :)

**_ Closer to the Spark _ **

 

            Rodimus had _never_ been handled so tenderly in his entire life.  

            It had _always_ been rough…………..life, interfacing, relationships…………all of that had been truly rough.   At least he finally had an understanding why life seemed to drive him crazy.   Why he sometimes had deep and inexplicable pain all through his frame and deep in his Spark.   It all had to do with the _medical dermal sensor net_.

            And it should be strange that the one person who had **_ever_** treated him like a precious treasure—who was _gentle and patient and kind_ to him—was a mech who had once **_killed him_**.   A mech he’d fought on the battlefields for years and years, maybe not directly, but essentially.   The mech who understood what the dermal sensor net actually was and did his very best to not only hold in his field around him, but used his very own field to try to protect the flame-colored mech from the emotions in everyone else’s fields around them.

            It figured that it would be _Megatron of Tarn_ who was the one who turned out to be his **_perfect match_**.   _That would be Rodimus’ luck._    The anguish and anger he felt when Optimus Prime not only placed Megatron on his ship, but put him _in command_ of it………….it was all gone now, deep inside of him, and all he felt was love and a very deep longing for the bulky, grey-colored mech who’d invaded his ship and his life.

            Now, they were _finally_ going to try it again— ** _interfacing_**.   And this time, Rodimus _really_ felt like he was ready.   _Nay, he felt like he truly wanted it._    And there was no denying _Megatron_ wanted to do it—he’d said so quite outright when they started trying a relationship on for size, that he really _preferred_ to have a physical portion to the relationship.   Now it was the time to try and move to that particular step in their relationship.

            “ _Um_.   Are you joining me here on the berth?”  Rodimus murmured as Megatron laid him out gently and then leaned over him, standing at the side of the berth.

            “ _Eventually_ ,” Megatron chuckled softly.   “You need not be nervous, Rodimus—despite everything you’ve ever heard about me and the way I’ve treated _‘lovers’_ , I know my boundaries with the ones I’m with at the time.   You’re very different than any other so-called _‘relationship’_ I’ve ever had,” he said, softly, laying his palm on the side of Rodimus’ faceplate and leaned down to touch his forehead to the flame-colored mech’s.   “There’s a lot I want from you and a lot that I wish to give to you, as well.   And we have the time to bond and grow—I’ve **_never_** had that chance with anyone else.”

            “I……….I know I said it before, but I’ve never had a _‘good’_ relationship, Megatron,” Rodimus murmured, softly, his gaze looking away from the bulky grey mech’s gaze.   “I hope I’m not a disaster in the making for you…………” he whispered, softly, anxiety creeping into the tone of his voice.

            “That’s _impossible_.  Unless you are being dishonest in our relationship,” the former Decepticon Leader responded, smiling down at the flame-colored mech.

            “I promise I’ll **_try_** to be a better mech.   A more honest one,” the younger Cybertronian whispered, ache in his Spark when Megatron’s words hit deeply into him.   His mouth moved, as if he were trying to speak, but nothing was coming out of his vocalizer except for a few pops and bursts of static.

            Megatron kissed his forehead gently, as a thumb brushed the younger mech’s lips.   Rodimus felt _very treasured_ ………..even though he had wounds deep inside of him and he knew Megatron suffered a lot, too, in his long life.   He really liked **_this feeling_** …………the feeling of someone thinking he was important and worthy of being loved.  Then Megatron’s lips slid over his own, gentle and teasing, pressing lightly and moving enough to part their lips, so a thick glossa could sweep into the younger mech’s mouth.

            Rodiimus arched his back a little, feeling heat flood through his fuel-lines and circuits, charge building a lot faster inside his frame than he really wanted it to.   Megatron’s servo moved from his faceplate down over his neck and settled on his chestplate, palm curved around the slightly arched ridge of his chestplating.   The heavy black palm slid lightly over the arched ridge and fingers closed on the ridging, a gentle pressure that seemed to stimulate Rodimus’ intensely heating circuits even more.

            The older mech pulled his mouth away from the one belonging to the flame-colored mech beneath him and he smiled, gazing directly into the brightly glowing optics.   It made the glass coverings on the optics glow a heavenly shade of blue.   Megatron leaned even further over the edge of the berth so he could bring his other hand up and cup the familiar young faceplate, even while his other busy servo was busy caressing and stimulating sensitive metal and microseams.

            “Are you still doing all right?”  The bulky grey mech asked, his deep voice gentle and kind.

            Rodimus nodded and rubbed his cheek into the palm of the servo cupping his faceplate gently.   The charges building in his frame happened to be making his focus somewhat fuzzy and he didn’t trust his vocalizer to get any sort of coherent words out there, so he let his field flow with love and longing, moving against the tightly held field of the former warlord—seeking similar emotions from the mech he had fallen in love with.

            “ _Field…………… **want your field** …………..honestly…………._” Rodimus said, so very slowly, as if his vocalizer had quit working and had only just rebooted.

            The way Megatron’s slowly-released field wove around him was beautiful—it was very much like an embrace, really.   It was gentle, _curving around him_ , swirling and merging with his own field.   There was _love_ in the older mech’s field…………..love and _definitely_ longing of a very sexual nature.   But Rodimus knew that anyways, Megatron made it pretty clear he enjoyed interfacing as part of a relationship.   And the young, flame-colored mech knew that the former Decepticon had been waiting patiently for them to get into the physical part of a relationship.

            “ _Mmmmm…………. **mmmmmmmmmmmm**!_”  Rodimus whimpered, back arching as he clutched at Megatron’s shoulders desperately.

            “ _Easy now_.   We’ll get there—and we’ll get there _properly_ ,” the bulky grey mech responded with a light chuckle and a kiss on the flame-colored mech’s forehead.

            Megatron’s servo on the brightly-colored chestplate slid down even further, along some of the more exposed dermal section on the abdomen.   His fingers played and teased on the edges of the few plating ridges there.   And those particular touches had Rodimus’ ability to even form words completely desert him.   The big black servo lightly caressing his abdomen had him almost at overload already and Megatron could tell, so he continued with that—the tips of his fingers tracing the ridges of the biolighting and giving light little presses into the derma and against the armour ridges.

            Rodimus’ legs hitched up and his feet planted hard on the berth as he arched his body up off the flat surface, mewling unintelligibly.   The former Decepticon Leader found it very delightful to watch.   Megatron kept caressing the derma and it’s finely carved ridging, pressing lightly and pressing harder at regular intervals.   Thin yellow bolts rippled over the flame-colored frame, as charge was spilling over from the already-full capacitors inside of him.   It was very beautiful and very erotic to watch the younger mech rise towards his pleasure— _both literally and figuratively_.   Though Megatron did find it odd that Rodimus hadn’t opened any of his panels of the interface array—was the younger mech waiting until they were actually going to interface to open them?

            The former Decepticon Leader moved his servo down to the flame-colored mech’s groinplating and cupped the area gently, pressing his palm against it and feeling how hot it was to the touch.   He also felt a dampness, as lubrication was leaking from the microseams around the array plates.    So he was clearly _very ready_ to interface…………

            Megatron leaned down and brushed his lips lightly over Rodimus’.   “Open for me, I’d like to touch you down here,” the deep voice purred softly.

            Rodimus kind of looked at him with a bit of confusion, as if Megatron were suddenly speaking an ancient and unintelligible language.

            “Your **_array_** , Rodimus— _open your array for me_ ,” Megatron said again, chuckling lightly, kissing the flame-colored mech’s forehead gently.

            “ _But.   Gonna. **Uhhhnnnh** ……….._” the younger mech panted, his words just barely making any kind of sense at all and were edged with heavy static.   However, he managed to gain enough control of his frame to send the “ _open_ ” command to his interface array.

            The paneling snapped open beneath Megatron’s large black servo and Rodimus gave a low, deep moan as the heavy palm sank against the wet mesh of his valve opening.

            “You can overload if you like— _as many times as you want_ , I’m just going to work on preparing you a little better, alright?”   The older mech murmured, leaning down and lightly giving Rodimus another kiss on the lips.

            “ ** _Touch_**.   _Can I touch_?”   Rodimus panted, his luminescent blue optics seeming to see straight through the mech leaning over him.

            “My touch or your touch?”   Megatron teased, grinning down at him.   “Do as you like with your spike, but **_I’ll_** be attending your very needy valve, all right?”   He responded when one of Rodimus’ yellow servos slid down his own abdomen and clutched at his pressurized spike.   He smiled and took a cursory glance to see Rodimus was gripping it and stroking it hard, with intense desperation.   “Why don’t you overload and ease a bit of that?”   Megatron chuckled, pressing another series of kisses to the dampened faceplate ridges and forehead.

            Rodimus shuttered his optics and the luminescent blue faded sharply from them.   His back arched some more as he began jerking at his rigid spike with more intensity and more desperation, the sounds from his vocalizer not even resembling words anymore.   More pale yellow charges rippled across his frame as he fought his way so desperately to his overload.   But, really, it was a gentle set of fingers that began stroking the wet mesh between his legs and pressing gentle fingertips into the valve that made him finally overload.   Transfluid shot thickly from his spike and landed on his chest as red and orange colors flooded into the yellow lightning that shot all across his frame and even licked and lapped at Megatron’s large frame beside him.

            That just made Megatron’s desire spiral higher, Rodimus’ charge was young and fresh and ignited a lot of things in his own systems that had been offline for a _very long time_.   Megatron felt almost young again.   Megatron had fragged others pretty constantly over the years, no matter how many years had passed or who had been taken to his berth it was all merely _something physical_ , but there were systems and protocols deep inside of him that were suddenly and inexplicably awakened with Rodimus coming into his life and this enthusiastic overload right at this moment.   Megatron wanted more of **_this_** —he wanted to claim the young mech on the berth near him and he would never allow another to touch this mech so long as he lived.

            He’d been aware of Ratchet’s constant encouragement to Spark-bond with Rodimus, but he hadn’t given it more than the cursory “ _of course I’ll think about it_ ” response.  Spark-bonding was something **_permanent and eternal_** and you _don’t_ do that on a whim or carelessly.   But now…………. ** _NOW_** …………Megatron felt like he truly did want to Spark-bond with this younger mech.   And if the fates even chose such an alignment for them both, he thought he’d even like to sire a sparkling with Rodimus—and **_that_** was something he’d never, ever even thought about for a single microsecond in his long life.

            “Hey, how do you feel?”  Megatron murmured when he felt Rodimus’s exventing slow to a more minimal pace.

            “ _Good. **Really** good_,” Rodimus murmured, bringing his optics back online and the soft blue luminescent glow filled the optic glass once more.   “Thanks Megs.   I _really_ liked that.   You were finding all the good spots on the front side of my frame…………..I forgot about a lot of them.   People don’t really want to take the time for some touching any more, it’s all about the fragging part.”

            “I’m rather guilty of that as well, with most of my previous partners,” Megatron sighed, straightening up and gently bringing his free servo’s fingers up to caress the side of the flame-colored mech’s faceplate.   He’d left his damp servo still lightly on Rodimus’ wet valve mesh, just because he was personally hoping for doing more soon enough.   “I know you just said you wanted to try harder in this relationship.   I think…………” the older mech trailed off, his tone wistful and hopeful all at once.

            Rodimus tilted his head as much as he could on the pillow, his gaze curious.

            “I think **_I_** want to try harder with this relationship, too,” Megatron finally continued.   “I’m finding that I really would like to do many more things with you that I have never had any moment of thought of doing with anyone else I’ve ever taken to my berth— _or other places_ —ever in my life.”

            “Megatron…………. _you_ ………..?”  Rodimus whispered, a sudden tension appearing in his body.   But it wasn’t a negative tension, it was a very hopeful tension.

            “I _think_ I’d like to Spark-bond with you.   To choose _a permanence_ to what we have and perhaps one day………..” the bulky, grey-colored mech trailed off wistfully.

            Rodimus practically clung to Megatron’s words, one of his servos lightly on the wrist of Megatron’s that was on his groin, while his other servo reached up to cup the one that was touching his faceplate.

            “I think maybe one day I’d like to try _forging new life_ with you,” the former Decepticon Leader said with a smile.   He leaned down and gently kissed Rodimus on the forehead again.   “But for now, I really would like to **_frag_**.   I really, _truly_ would,” he added with a wry chuckle, unable to hold back the frank honesty of their positions and situation right now.

            Rodimus laughed, it was a welcome release of tension— _the good and the bad_ —that had been pooling deep inside of him.    He urged Megatron to get up on the berth and **_do it_** , then.   And even when he’d started, Megatron was still going slow—still teasing his frame and using fingers to open and spread his valve to prepare for interfacing.    After already being given one very wonderful overload, Rodimus felt no need to speed up to another one—instead, he cherished Megatron’s considerate and rather eager foreplay.   He was also far more coherent and had real words to exchange with his lover this time around.   And he was surprised to find himself soon begging for it—for the union of their frames as well as being wrapped in Megatron’s wonderful and familiar EM field.

            “Are you all right?”   Megatron asked with concern deep in his old, rough voice.   He saw Rodimus’ expression change to one of trying to endure pain the moment he finally slid his spike into the wet and waiting valve of the mech beneath him.   The older mech suddenly stopped all movement whatsoever and stared down into Rodimus’ face, waiting for an answer before doing anything else.  No matter how badly his own frame were begging him for it.

            “ _I’m_ ………..I’m good.   It’s really just I don’t have a lot of experience, I mean…….not the _good experiences_ anyways,” Rodimus murmured, her servos clutching tightly to Megatron’s broad shoulders.   “It’ll take a while Megs, _I’ll get there_ —just wait for me and be patient with me.   And put up with me being in a bit of pain until I figure out how good it really is _supposed_ to be, okay?”   The flame-colored mech responded, lightly patting one of Megatron’s shoulders with a loosened servo, while the other one still clutched tightly.  “C’mon, _move_ …………you’re **_not_** going to break me, Megs— _I promise_!”   Rodimus laughed softly, the servo he was patting the shoulder with moving to Megatron’s faceplate and caressing gently.

            “You’re certain?”   The bulky grey mech asked, again—still very worried, no matter how much his own frame was pestering about thrusting as hard as he could and overloading as soon as possible, he wasn’t going to push this far enough to hurt Rodimus.

            Despite using the terminology earlier, this wasn’t “ _fragging_ ”, this was truly “ _interfacing_ ”.

            “Yes, I’m certain— _you can thrust as you like_ , you’re **_not_** going to hurt me,” Rodimus chuckled, reaching up lightly and kissing Megatron’s chin.

            “I understand that, but I want it to be the best you’ve ever had,” Megatron responded, a wry smile on his faceplate.

            “If you make it _the best ever_ tonight—there’s **_nothing more_** to strive for, Megs, _come on_!”   Rodimus laughed, pulling the bulky mech’s shoulders down towards him.

            “ ** _Nnnnnhh_** ……….don’t laugh like that—it makes your valve spiral tighter around me,” Megatron grunted softly.

            “ _Let it_.   Make me **_fall apart_** beneath you, Megatron of Tarn,” the flame-colored mech responded, his voice a low purr of seduction.

            Megatron had lost _this battle_ long ago.   He flared his field out around himself and Rodimus, full of love and lust and need, and drove in with the rhythm his entire frame had been begging for all this time.   Rodimus clutched at his shoulders again, gasping softly.   His voice became murmurs and cries for more, or harder, or deeper.   And then, before they both even realized it, _they were there_ —falling into each other’s fields, frames and voices as overload claimed them both.

            Afterwards, Megatron held himself up on somewhat shaky arms, trying not to crush Rodimus with his weight.   Rodimus smiled up at him, his yellow servos lightly patting at the trembling forearms by his sides.

            “ ** _That_** was really nice.   I’m glad we finally got to do it,” Rodimus murmured softly.   “ _Properly_ , I mean.   When we were both ready and I wasn’t a _whimpering lunatic_.”

            “I’m glad, too.   But trust me, there’s _far more_ that we can enjoy later on—come other nights when we have the time and energy for it,” Megatron chuckled, finally hefting himself up to his knee joints.   He carefully crawled off the berth and went to the washracks for some cleaning cloths—he promised to clean Rodimus up before they went to sleep.

            **_That_** was also really nice.

            So were the blankets that Megatron retrieved from the storage area.

            But **_the best part_** was the large, warm frame that slid in beside him, drawing the flame-colored mech into the strong and powerful arms.   And the spin of their own individual Sparks seeming to harmonize and draw them both into a deep recharge cycle.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Rodimus was on the bridge, working, the next day—it seemed to be pretty quiet.   They were still ferrying natives from the two worlds, whose sun was being decimated by the warrior species called “ _Trylians_ ”.   The cyborgs no longer bothered the _Lost Light_ , so long as they stayed away and didn’t interfere—so the Lost Light, along with a nearby galactic travel agency, concentrated on evacuating the two planets to a safe haven of worlds chosen by this universe’s galactic alliance.

            “The sun **_will_** go nova at some point,” Perceptor said, standing beside the captain’s chair, holding a datapad.

            “ _Yeah_.   But I don’t think we can fight those guys, not unless we could somehow find a way to even the odds,” Rodimus sighed, typing away at the portable desk portion of the chair’s computer system.    “This universe’s galactic alliance is asking for us to join with them, even though we don’t have a home world here.   It looks like they’ve seen our good deeds and believe we can be useful.”

            “Quite the opposite of back home, as the Galactic Council _sincerely_ despised our species.  As well as their spin-off association, the Black Box Consortia,” the Autobot scientist said, quietly.   “I don’t think it was well-known, but the Black Box Consortia were painted in a rather negative light—however, I believe they were actually an _extended part_ of the Council.”

            Rodimus leaned back in the chair and flashed a grin at Perceptor.   “I always thought so, too—it was _too coincidental_ they were both often after the same thing in their hatred of us………our technology,” the flame-colored mech chuckled softly.   “ _Gah!   Drift!_    When did **_you_** get here?!”  Rodimus gasped, suddenly noticing a familiar mech beside the Autobot scientist.

            “I’ve been standing here for a few minutes,” the swordsmech chuckled warmly.   “Is there anything **_I_** can do to help with the evacuation thing?”   He asked, softly, tilting his head as he gazed at Rodimus.

            The flame-colored mech _never even felt him_ —he **_still_** couldn’t feel him even standing right there and looking at him.   He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved he wasn’t awash in feelings of love and passion for a certain medical mech or if he were actually pissed off that Drift was hiding his true feelings in his field again, even if they were not for him.    Rodimus just reined it all in and incycled and exvented to calm himself down.   He had Megatron now anyways—he shouldn’t care whatever the hell Drift said or felt or did.

            “Not really anything I know of, Ultra Magnus has been organizing the evacuation, so you can check with him.   Megatron’s down there, also—you can ask him, too,” Rodimus answered with a sigh.   He returned his focus back on the workstation pulled up in front of him.  “We’re just keeping an eye on the sun to make sure we don’t run out of time with the evacuation—otherwise it’s pretty boring up here on the bridge.”

            “All right, I’ll go see if anyone else needs help,” Drift responded with a soft sigh in his vocalizer.  He turned and walked back toward the door of the bridge area.

            “ _Drift_ …………thanks for checking in, I appreciate it,” Rodimus said, still focused on the workstation.

            The unspoken meaning of it was “ _thanks for not blaring out your field and practically killing me with your joy_ ”, of course, but Drift honestly appreciated the words as a step in the right direction towards fixing his friendship with Rodimus.

            Drift smiled as he walked out into the corridors and went looking for Ultra Magnus.

            Rodimus focused back on the displays of his workstation.

            “Hey _fearless leader_ ,” a familiar voice said as someone leaned on his shoulders, over the back of the captain’s chair.

            “What’s up, Brainstorm?”   Rodimus asked, tilting his head up at the younger of the two Autobot scientists on the bridge.

            “ _Gossip. **Gimme**_ ,” the teal-and-white mech said cheerfully, the light of his optics beneath his yellow-glass coverings bright and excited.

            Rodimus gave a snort and laughed openly.   “Why Brainstorm………….why do you think **_I_** have any kind of gossip to share with you?”   The flame-colored mech responded with a grin.

            “ ** _C’mon_** ……..at least tell me if he’s _awesome_ in the berth, you can give me that much!”  The younger scientist chuckled in a soft-and-quiet voice, so that no one but Rodimus and Perceptor actually heard him.

            Perceptor _actually_ facepalmed himself—a gesture the older Autobot scientist had never really used before.

            Rodimus grinned, the light of his optics making the blue glass-coverings glow intensely.   He reached up and poked a finger in the center of Brainstorm’s forehead and said:  “ ** _It’s.  A.  Secret._** ”, before returning his optics to his work station.

            “ _Noooooo_ ……….you **_can’t_** leave it at that—it just means it’s _really juicy stuff_ , **_come on Rodimus_** —after all the death machines I’ve ever built for you!!!”  Brainstorm cried, pouting, as he gently shook Rodimus’ shoulders.

            Rodimus grinned—he had a good idea why Brainstorm even knew something happened last night, which was because his new hab suite that he now shared with Megatron happened to be across the hallway from Brainstorm’s.   He _probably_ heard some choice noises from the room as he was going to his own hab suite for his recharge cycle.   But, in a way, Rodimus was really pleased that Brainstorm had become more honest and open with everyone around him—things happened and some of them were not very pleasant—but Brainstorm had changed for the better on the journey.   _Most of them_ really had.   And Brainstorm’s curiosity just meant that he actually **_supported_** the relationship—he was merely having a little fun to cheer Rodimus up.

            “If you could make me a death machine to get rid of _those_ guys—I’d tell you **_all_** the juicy details,” Rodimus chuckled, wryly, pointing at the viewscreen and its shot of the sun and the massive Trylian warship near it.

            “ _Gyah_ , I wish I could…………..really I do Rodimus,” Brainstorm sighed, crossing his arms over the top of the back of the captain’s chair.    “It sounds like they’re an unpleasant species.”

            “They’ve encountered Cybertronians in their own universe and it sounds like they’ve got a personal grudge against _their universe’s_ Galvatron,” Rodimus replied, smiling softly as he recalled the inference that that universe’s Galvatron also had a relationship with that universe’s version of himself.   “Which makes _that Galvatron_ practically a hero in my optics,” he added with a light chuckle.   The flame-colored mech frowned as he stared at the screens on the workstation before him.   “I don’t think we’ll be able to go without encountering them again, though………..it’s just that I have a very bad feeling about it.   I know that it’s going to take a talk with the crew and a hashing out with the command crew, but…………. _I think_ we should join up with this universe’s galactic alliance.   Not just to get their protection from these guys, but it would give us a lot more freedom to move freely through sectors in this universe.”

            “I think that’s honestly a wise idea, Rodimus,” Perceptor said, his voice kind and serene.

            **[Rodimus, we’ve got the next groups loaded up or hitched up and I believe we’re ready to go,]** Ultra Magnus’ voice said, suddenly, via the comm-system.

            “All right,” Rodimus responded and then he flipped the switch on the captain’s chair for an all-call announcement.   “Everyone on the ship, we’re about ready to take the most recent group of refugees to safety.   Please attend your proper duties and duty stations as we head out!”

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            After his bridge shift was over and Thunderclash came in to take over from him, Rodimus went down to the medi-bay.   He went and visited some of those who were still recovering from injuries.   He began to feel more at ease with them as they seemed to relax around him.   His falsified attitude he’d always thrown out there had clearly given people a _really bad impression of him_.   He regretted it now, after all these years, but………….he’d _probably_ do the same thing again if he had to live his life over.

            In a way visiting the injured took him back to Nyon.   It wasn’t as if his early years had been a joy, but back then he’d felt wanted and needed by the others.   The majority of those in Nyon couldn’t move or even really do much “ _living_ ” anymore.   And he took care of them, so it felt “ _very right_ ” to him.   After he’d made the choice to destroy Nyon, there was a part of him that had become a black hole— _deep, dark and empty_ —and he had _no idea_ how he was to **_ever_** fix that part of himself.   He’d tried _everything_ ……….from circuit-speeders, to drinking, to throwing himself at others and getting fragged senseless.   It wasn’t as if anyone had ever wanted a serious relationship with him, he could tell instantly if he’d gone out with someone who seemed serious, because of the moment they were in the berth…………..and then with the parting message the next day saying they should get together again some other time.   There was no “ _some other time_ ”, there **_never_** was.

            Now he knew he’d been affected by all of that because of the dermal sensor net he had—Rodimus learned that the reason he felt so “ _right_ ” in Nyon, despite how destroyed and devastated it all was then, was that he was following the medical coding deep within his Spark.   Without others to care for and being told to go out and fight and kill…………young Hot Rod of Nyon _truly_ had lost his way in life and tried to fill it with so many other things that _weren’t_ what he really needed.

            “Could I even be a medic now?”   Rodimus asked as he sat down with First Aid in one of their routine chats.

            “Surface-wise, you could at least be a nurse or even a medical assistant,” the small medic chuckled warmly.   “But nothing will ever fix or train your dermal sensor net, not anymore—it’s beyond the stage with which it can be trained.”

            “But it does make me feel better to help others, so maybe it helps me out, too?”   The flame-colored mech murmured, softly.

            “ _Ah_ , now **_that_** is something to consider,” First Aid said, tilting his head at Rodimus with a kind tone in his voice.  “I never thought of that.   Maybe helping others can ease some of the stress on your dermal sensor net, because you’re doing the thing it was meant for.”   First Aid made some notations on the datapad he was holding and then looked back up at Rodimus.  “I’m going to run it by Ratchet and Velocity—get their thoughts—then I’ll speak to Megatron and see if he wouldn’t mind releasing you from some bridge duties for a while.   I highly doubt he’ll mind, though,” the small medic said cheerfully.

            “Yeah, if it helps me—he’ll be fine with it, I’m sure!”  The flame-colored mech chuckled warmly.   “Hey, First Aid…………..Megatron brought something up to me that I’ve never even thought of before.   And before you say _‘why would you want to?’_ , I just kind of want to know if you’ve ever encountered it or experienced it before.   I mean, I guess Megs is old enough to have experienced it or maybe he knew about it in the Functionist Universe…………and I’ve kinda heard about it, though I’ve never actually encountered it myself…………..” he trailed off, wondering if he should even bring it up.   The ship’s CMO tilted his head curiously at him.    “Megatron said something that if things go well, in the future he’d want to maybe even forge new life with me.”

            The light in First Aid’s blue glass covered optics became brighter—with surprise, but excitement as well.   “I’ve _never_ observed it, but have heard about it.   Most people got their lines, programs and protocols fixed so they couldn’t _accidentally_ do it, _especially during the war_ —plus many know what to avoid during heat cycles and to get shunts installed.   Frankly, I don’t recommend a shunt, as I think it can damage the Spark and the potential carrier’s system, but that’s just me and my overly-cautious ways I suppose,” the small medic said, softly.   “Plus there’s always the fact that the majority of systems lean towards siring or carrying, generally **_not both_** , and many couples have often found themselves on the side that they’re both carrier or both sire in their programming and system adaptations.”

            There was a very long pause as both of them let the idea hover there in the space between them for several very long moments.

            “Do you _want to_ Rodimus?   Would you like me to do a thorough check on your systems to see if you can carry or sire?”   First Aid finally asked.

            “It’s a big concept and I’m not sure I can wrap my head around it, yet.   But maybe I should see _what I am_ , in case it’s…………what we **_both_** want someday?   The fact that Megatron even brought it up means he’s both serious about our relationship and maybe he really would like to,” the flame-colored mech murmured softly, scuffing his pedes on the floor and staring at his knee-joints.

            “I’ll set up an appointment for you,” the small medic responded with warmth him his voice.   “In the meantime, I’ll speak with my staff and then Megatron about a small internship for you here in the medi-bay.   Just as a brief warning, though—Drift is down here often enough, _so_ …………” he trailed off.

            “ _Yeah_ ………… ** _I’ll_** ………….I’ll try to be okay about that,” Rodimus answered, looking back up at First Aid.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The next day, as Rodimus and Megatron were settling down with each other on their couch to watch a movie and just cuddle—they decided to talk instead of watch the movie.   Though the cuddling still happened regardless of not watching a movie.

            “ _I mean_ , do you think it’s a bad idea…………me in the medi-bay and all that?”  Rodimus asked, anxiety creeping into his vocalizer, even though he was very happy lying on top of Megatron’s chest and with the big, strong arms wrapped around him.

            “ _No_.   I think it’s a potentially good idea,” Megatron answered, stroking the flame-colored mech’s spoiler fins and backstrut very fondly.   “Even if they can’t fix the situation with the dermal sensor net, if they can get it to ease back, then I am all for that.”

            “I’m not sure I can be good at anything medical, but I can _talk to people_ —if I’m just myself, I’m really good at talking to people,” the flame-colored mech murmured, relaxing and enjoying Megatron’s large black servos stroking him.

            “Sometimes that’s most of what a _good nurse_ does—they listen and they comfort people—all with words,” the former Decepticon Leader chuckled.   “First Aid also brought up your other question.   If the idea truly bothers you, you need not consider it.   I am _not expecting it_ —I merely made the suggestion to show how willing I was to devote myself to you.”

            “ ** _It’s_** _—it’s not that!_ ”   Rodimus cried, heaving himself up so he could look into his lover’s old red glass covered optics.   “It’s just…………..I’ve _never_ considered the idea or even the potential.   I mean, nobody ever really wanted me for long and so…………….I just had no reason to even consider the idea of bearing new life or siring it.”   The flame-colored mech lowered himself back down and laid his right cheek on Megatron’s chestplate, right over the Autobot brand there.    “I’m still a bit wounded over Luna I.   I _know_ Prowl’s idea—to use the quantum engines to try and reignite the life on it _probably worked_ ………….back there and all.   _But I_ ………….I ignited those Sparks and I also snuffed them out………….. ** _I_** …………”

            Megatron felt the tremor in Rodimus’ smaller frame and knew he was crying, even if he was not making any actual sobbing sounds.   The light clutch of servos and curling in of his frame atop his own bulky frame also told the same tale.   Rodimus _loved life_ —and he fought for it so hard.   Most likely the younger mech would love to have the opportunity to forge new life himself, but he was afraid because of all the lives he’d lost on the path of his life.   The flame-colored mech probably doubted he was worthy to forge new life, because of all the ones he’d lost.

            The former Decepticon just rubbed and patted Rodimus’ back, letting him cry out all his pain over the past and all those situations still hurting him.   Megatron said nothing, but just let his embrace comfort his young lover.   Then, after about twenty minutes, Rodimus’ tremors stopped and his frame relaxed and stretched out over Megatron’s again.

            “Thanks for letting me cry.   It’s _better_ than raging,” Rodimus said, quietly.

            “You are given permission at all times to cry, Rodimus—do not let the way others think stop you from grieving when you need to grieve,” Megatron responded, going back to stroking Rodimus’ spoiler fins and backstrut with his servos.

            “Yeah, but I feel _so damn awkward_ doing it,” the flame-colored mech muttered, softly, rubbing his cheek on Megatron’s chestplating.   “ _Anyways_.   I wouldn’t mind, you know.   But First Aid says that there’s always the chance that our programming might make us both sires or both carriers and we can’t do it anyways.   But………..if it works out in our favor and the time feels right…………. _yeah, I don’t think I’d mind trying_.”

            “Then we shall await things to see what the future will hold for us, _mmm_?”  Megatron chuckled, planting a light kiss on the top of Rodimus’ helm.   “Now, shall we watch something silly and mind-numbing before we head off to recharge?”   He added, giving Rodimus’ sunbright spoiler fins a gentle pat.

            “Sounds like a plan, Megs,” the flame-colored mech chuckled, cuddling and reach over his lover’s shoulder for the remote to the viewscreen.


End file.
